Of Toasters, Alnel, and Insane Fluff
by Crazy Authoresses CAT and AMS
Summary: Peppita's created a psychotic toaster who happens to have a crush on our favorite fanfiction trollop, Albel Nox. Add in kidnapping blackmail and matchmaking and Nox ends up engaged to her creation. Can anyone save him from his wretched fate? Probably not.
1. In the beginning, there was toast

**Of Toasters, Alnel, and Insane Fluff**

A/N- Oooo… my first ever challenge-fic! Yeah, I should be working on my other fics instead of starting another new one, but I couldn't help it. Sorceress Myst's Alnel challenge was just too irresistible (if you want some spoilers, check it out on her profile. I think you'll know which one this is.). Be warned: this will be insane. Well, without further babbling…

Chapter One: The Dangers of Burnt Toast 

"MY creation!" Peppita cackled in typical mad genius fashion, "IT'S… ALIIIIIIVE!"

"What _is_ it?" Fayt said, suspiciously eyeing the small silver box that had just popped into existence.

"My creation."

"It looks pretty useless to me. What does it do?" Cliff said, prodding one of the two slats on its top with the nearest thing in reach, a fork left over from lunch.

The thing immediately went into self-defense mode and let out a shock of electricity that made Cliff's hair stand on end and his body have little intermittent seizures.

"Wh-what the hell was that?" Cliff whimpered piteously, still twitching.

"And I shall call you the Toaster!" Peppita cried, maniacal glint in her eyes.

"Surprisingly handy device…" Mirage snickered, prodding the still-spasming Cliff.

"But wait!" Peppita grinned, "There's more! Observe the additional uses of the Toaster."

With a flourish, she fished two pieces of bread from a half-empty bag that was lying by what was left of the fork. With utmost care, she stroked the side of the Toaster and stuck the two pieces of bread into the slots, quickly withdrawing her hand.

"That has got to be the dumbest thing ever created." Roger snorted.

"Oh yeah?" Peppita cried, picking her creation up by the cord and circling it around her head like a lasso, subsequently knocking Roger out.

The other party members backed away. It was all well and good to allow Peppita to vent some of her insanity by letting her spend as much money as she wanted Crafting, but this was really going to far. Nel got out her daggers, prepared to smite the latest creation into oblivion and send it to the junk heap, like all the other vicious ones.

The shiny, apparently violent creation snarled and somehow made a hissing noise, even though it didn't really have a face, let alone mouth to speak of. It then made a funny popping noise and ejected two burnt pieces of bread, which collided with Albel's head. Albel reached up to ensure the byproduct hadn't set on fire/ruined his hair and found a large, slightly bloody bruise.

"What the hell kind of invention can make normal toast into a weapon?" Albel twitched, clearly trying to control his anger.

"An INGENIOUS one!" Peppita grinned.

He threw the two charred shurikens at a giggling Peppita in disgust and stormed off to berate the others, who had already run away and left him to duel with that foul monstrosity. They'd nearly condemned him to a death sentence and they would pay dearly for it… once he got far enough away from this Toaster of Doom. Oh, it and its creator would pay too. He fished out his Vengeance List and added several more names in tiny print at the bottom beneath all the crossed-off names. Had anyone thought to look, they would have found that it was almost identical to the missing persons list of the last few months. Yes, he would get revenge, he always did. All in good time…

Back in the insane girl's laboratory, the toaster purred a pining hiss and wrapped its cord around its body like a tail.

"What is it, Toaster, girl?" Peppita said, noticing the dreamy noise, "Did Roger fall down the well?"

Had it possessed eyes, it would have given her a dirty look. Instead, it scuttled over to the two burnt pieces of toast, carved a likeness of Albel's face, and cuddled with them.

And then she realized.

"You _like_ Albel, don't you? I mean, I guess it makes sense. You both have homicidal tendencies… and his hair _does_ kind of look like your tail…"

The heat coils inside of the toaster turned red, which Peppita interpreted as a blush.

"Ooooo! Someone's finally letting me play matchmaker! I know you two will be sooooo happy together!" Peppita squealed, beginning to formulate an evil plan of much evilness.

Several realities away, a young goddess with fiery red hair and a perpetually agitated expression frowned down at the Toaster.

"I don't like the looks of that Thing. It isn't on any of the crafting charts. Apris? APRIS! LISTEN TO ME, DAMMIT!"

A bronze, buff Herculean figure popped out of thin air robed completely in blindingly gaudy gold. Three scantily-clad blonde triplets followed him, rubbing his muscles and fawning on him in general any chance they got.

"Sorry, Dima, baby. I was 'paying attention' to my wives." Apris leered, causing Dima to gag a little.

"You are such a pervert. You know that, don't you? I refuse to believe I was spawned by you. Or that people actually worship you."

"Ah, come on. No need to be like that, baby. It was beautiful. See, I got really wasted one night with these really hot nymphs and woke up the next morning with this horrible splitting headache, and then you popped out of my head. The triplets were pretty pissed. Now hug your daddy."

Beside him, the three sisters giggled vacantly.

"GAH! That's Earth Grecian mythology, you idiot!" Dima raged, repressing the urge to strangle the useless main deity.

"Whatever, same basic story. Drunkenness with hot girls equals baby you don't remember conceiving."

Beside him, the three sisters giggled even more vacantly. Once again, Dima resisted the temptation of going into her Fury mode on them all.

"OK. I'm willing to let _that_ go if you just tell me what you're going to do about that monstrosity on Elicoor!"

"Huh? The thing that makes toast into weapons? It looks harmless--"

"IT'S NOT SUPPOSED TO EXIST! IT COULD THROW THE UNIVERSE INTO CHAOS!"

"Or it could just make burnt toast, darling." Irisa piped up.

"Who's your daddy?" Apris smirked, wrapping his arms around the three women's waists and winking lewdly at Dima. She reddened, pulled out a bow, and shot a runological arrow at him, which struck the ivory wall behind the group with an angry twang just as they disappeared.

"AUGH! I'm going to find someone who knows what the hell they're talking about!"

With that she turned on her heel, shot a few more arrows out of frustration, and stomped away, not noticing the figure lingering in the darkness between two pillars who watched her with a smirk.

Several bolts of lightning illuminated the sky directly above one of the minor temples of Apris in Aquios. Twix, a middle-aged priest with a bulging middle-aged physique had been sitting in front of his fireplace with the latest copy of 'Hot Aquarian Spies' until he'd heard the disruption. It was clear to him that the lightning had nothing to do with an actual storm. It was just one of those dramatic hints Apris dropped when he wanted another tribute. With a groan, Twix hoisted himself from his seat, said a quick incantation and let the symbols form a gateway to the Realm of the Gods. Sighing, he relinquished the normal tribute: whatever girly magazine was handy. Still, he supposed that this was why Apris needed a few male priests.

Slightly depressed over the loss of his magazine just as it was getting good, he took his cloak and decided to venture into the night to either get hammered at the nearest pub and hit on girls or get another magazine. Needless to say, he usually ended up drunk, dejected and with a shopping bag full of magazines from the more unscrupulous authors on these occasions. It was unfair. He'd thought being a priest of Apris would get him in with the ladies, especially the triplets out there. No one had said anything about celibacy until afterwards…

Little did Twix know that on this occasion, he had made two crucial mistakes. The first was that he had made a general tribute to whatever god was raging, since he was too 'preoccupied' to figure out which one. This minor slip on his part had made a naughty magazine land on Dima's head and subsequently caused her to burn down his temple a few minutes later.

The second mistake was that most of the lightning hadn't been from Dima's misplaced arrows. No, they had been called into existence for the very specific purpose of dramatic effect. For lurking in the shadows, awaiting Twix to leave his house was a sneaky, pink-clad ninja with lots of rope and evil intents to fulfill her evil plan of much evilness.

Post-Chapter A/N- Well, I promise that there will be a plot… someday. While you're waiting, though, click on the spiffy periwinkle button and support your crazy neighborhood fanfiction writer or she shall smite you all with the wrath of Dima! Mwahahaha!


	2. And then came the burntness

**Of Toasters, Alnel, and Insane Fluff**

A/N- The funny thing about the last chapter was that while I was writing the thing, I could have sworn that I smelled burnt toast. Well, I finally finished and posted it, and within an hour my monitor went spastic, went to twitchy black and white stripes, and started smoking. Yes, it totally bit the dust. It doesn't seem it, but it's really scary when you're monitor acts possessed at 2:00 in the morning when you're already mostly asleep. Could it be that the story is cursed with the wrath of toast? AHHHH! Well, at least the reviews made it worth it, but if my borrowed monitor starts doing the same thing, I'll have to take a hint before the toaster comes and gets me. Oh, and the same thing will happen to your screens unless you review at the end. -grins- Well, enough babbling. On to the real insanity!

**Chapter Two: Of secrets, snatching, and smut.**

Twix crept out of his temple minutes before its detonation. He huddled into his cloak and started down the road and saw a young blonde staring at him mischievously.

"You're a priest, right?" She smiled.

"Well, yes… but the temple's closed right now." He grunted back, just wanting to get to the bar.

"Oh, I don't care about that. I just need you."

He stopped in his tracks and appraised her with some regret.

"Whoa, there, darling. You're cute and all, but a little too young. I don't go for that kind of thing."

Peppita flushed and pulled out a bottle.

"That was _not_ what I meant, pervert."

Glaring, she chucked the secret weapon at him and immediately he began choking and passed out. On second thought, perhaps the secret weapon wasn't such a great idea. Sure, it was effective, but even she was beginning to tear and the wind was blowing the other way. Well, one mystery of the world was solved: Cliff's new cologne could knock out something the size of a horse. Staying as far away from the stench as she could, she hogtied the nearly asphyxiated priest. One tug made her realize the one thing she hadn't planned on: that this particular priest weighed about as much as a village of Menodix.

"Freaking cream puff…" Peppita growled, lugging her hostage behind her.

The night owls of Aquios had adopted a snitch-and-die policy concerning most of the illegal events that took place after dark. Still, even a few street thugs gave Peppita odd looks before backing away into whatever dark alley they'd ventured from. Ninja-girl was definitely too hardcore for them.

Several frightened villagers later, a profusely sweating Peppita finally reached the workshop and hauled the fat priest to the hearth, where she dumped him roughly.

"Think of it as practice. It's going to be a lot harder to kidnap Albel. He might be a twig, but he's scrappy as hell." She panted to herself, wondering if it was going to be worth all the trouble just to play matchmaker.

Peppita plopped down into a chair to calm her strained muscles, but instead of sinking into cushions, there was an uncomfortable hard surface. Looking down, she realized that burnt toast in Albel's likeness covered every inch of the room.

"Toaster…" Peppita began, wiping the crumbs off her outfit, "don't you think this is getting a tiny bit…oh, I don't know-- creepy? Stalkerish?"

The Toaster hissed from somewhere in a pile of toast.

"Er, right. I'll just…uh… go get Albel. Keep an eye on Cream Puff."

Toaster scuttled unseen under the piles of toast to Twix, whom it wrapped its cord around. It let off a warning shock and motioned for Peppita to leave.

Really, the thing was starting to disturb her. Something she created was more conniving than she was.

"Scary thought." She sighed, opening the door and storming back into the night.

Once again almost all the citizenry stayed out of her way. That is, until a figure in a very short skirt appeared from the shadows and descended upon her, sneaky as a fox.

"Peppita, what are you doing out here so late at night?" Nel scolded, hands on her hips, "It's not safe, you know."

"Nel!" Peppita choked, jumping a foot in the air, "Oh. Err.. right. Just out to pick something up."

Nel sighed and nodded, motioning for her to follow.

"Well, in that case, I'll just escort you. I couldn't sleep, so I guess a walk will help as much as anything else."

"NO! I mean… that's really not necessary." Peppita stammered, noticing Nel's odd look and shoving the rope into her pack. "I wouldn't want to.. err... impose?"

"Like I said, it's no trouble at all. I insist."

Anyone who knew Nel well (or had ever gotten on her bad side) knew that once Nel insisted on something, there wasn't any room for argument. Peppita sighed and grudgingly followed the intimidating older warrior.

"Peppita, where exactly were you going? You never answered."

"Errrr... uh," Peppita said, scrambling for any story that didn't involve kidnapping Albel, "The... bakery! Yeah! I had a craving for apple pie."

Nel gave her another strange look, and Peppita really hoped that Nel's training didn't involve much advanced lie-detection.

"Then why exactly are we walking in the opposite direction?"

"It's err… the safer route."

At that moment, they passed a group of drunken thugs loudly brawling in a dark alley. A broken cider bottle whizzed past Nel's head and snagged her scarf, making Nel go into warrior mode.

"That was my favorite scarf." She growled, green eyes looking more possessed than usual, "You're going to _pay_ for that."

She quickly broke up the fight (along with some of the perp's bones) and turned back to Peppita.

"Safer, hm?" Nel drawled, arching one eyebrow so high that it almost disappeared into her bangs.

Peppita remained tactfully silent, slightly cowed by Nel's scary show of strength.

Knowing she wouldn't get a straight answer out of the girl, Nel shrugged and changed the subject.

"Uh, speaking of safe… Have you 'put down' that Toaster thing yet?"

"I wish." Peppita sighed.

"Well, if it becomes a threat to the public interest, know that I'll take care of it myself."

Nel narrowed her eyes just enough to be barely perceptible. It was enough. Little rivulets of sweat began to prick up all over Peppita's body.

'She's onto me…WhaddoIdo? She's like a stubborn, ferocious bloodhound. No matter where I go, she'll be able to track me down by the scent of burnt toast! I'm doomed!' 

Wiping a drop of sweat off her cheek, Peppita eyed up her adversary, trying to seem casual and most of all, innocent. On Peppita, innocent turned out to be more suspicious than anything else.

"So…errr… what do you mean by the 'public interest' thing?"

Nel favored her with another eye-narrowing.

"The people of Aquios, of course."

"Errr… right. Of course."

'Well then she can't complain if I kidnap Albel. He's the farthest thing you can get from a citizen of Aquios.'

Her voice of logic, however, ruined the moment of victory by interrupting.

'_Are you forgetting about the Aquarian priest you just kidnapped?'_

'_Quiet, you.' She responded, blocking herself out._

She had to find out how to get Nel off her tail, at least for a while. Suddenly, an evil, red-eyed lightbulb popped into invisible existence above Peppita's head.

"Look, Nel!" She cried, pointing across the road at a random NPC, "That guy just made lewd comments about your mother and stole a goat to molest!"

Nel's eyes blazed and she drew her daggers.

"Ayiyiyiyiyiiiiiii!" She screamed, charging at him.

"What the? Lady Nel, what are you doing?" Laselle whimpered, spotting the scariest woman in Aquios rush toward him in a violent rage, "This is highly unorthodox! OW! That was my kidney!"

Peppita smiled in her most devious manner and quickly fled the scene. She didn't want to be around when Nel finished with the pompous puppet. Once she worked up a mood, it was kind of hard to get her to stop.

'_But on the bright side,_' she thought, ignoring the screams in the background, _'I just did a community service. No one liked Laselle!'_

"NOT THE SPLEEN!"

With that, Peppita skipped off happily to hunt down her next victim. The street thugs practically trampled each other to get out of her way.

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When she had finished avenging her honor and doing the world a favor, Nel stepped over the remains of Laselle and looked around.

"Where'd Peppita go?" she murmured, then shrugged, not really caring.

Her real problem was much worse and beating up Laselle had only relieved a little of her stress. She had the most dreaded of all problems: the bane of existence, the devil's own pet.

She had…

_**writer's block.**_

The draft of her latest book was due in a week and she still couldn't think up a decent ending. Or a decent beginning. Or middle, for that matter. She suppressed a shudder and looked around fearfully. Something was looming overhead with evil certainty, like a dark shadow that blotted out all happiness. Ever time she thought about it, it gave her the chills. No matter where she went, she couldn't escape it. It nagged her when she tried to relax, when she tried to sleep, when she tried to write. Yes, it was her most evil nemesis as an author, the dreaded Deadline. It's vampiric ways were feared by all with sense. Trying to push it to the back of her mind, Nel trudged back to her room in the inn, where her unfinished draft was waiting on her desk, mocking her with its emptiness. She had to resist using a firebolt on it.

"Now where was I?" she groaned, sitting in the uncomfortable chair that kept her from falling asleep on the manuscript.

_ Len had to struggle to keep herself from falling asleep as she worked on the more tedious aspects of her latest report. Her last assignment as top spy for the Tauralean queen was to investigate a group of off-worlders who had mysteriously appeared in Taural's long-time foe, Librani. During that interesting mission, she had discovered more exhilaration and excitement than she had in a long time. Though no one else knew, not all of it had come from the adventure. Some of it had been caused by him. Even something as insignificant as watching him move in battle could make shivers of longing run through her body. It was utterly ridiculous that she was harboring these feelings for someone like Belal. He was her country's sworn enemy, her counterpart in Librani. It seemed treasonous to keep thinking of him in that way. Besides that, he was utterly infuriating, always poking her to see if she's jump. They were at each other's throats constantly. Sure it was wrong, but… _

_"__But he's so damned attractive." She groaned to herself, feeling the familiar wave of lust wash over her body. _

_"Who is?" A dark rumble of a voice purred from beside her. _

_Her body jolted at the shock of an intruder and her hands flew immediately to her dagger hilts. The strange thing was that she hadn't heard anyone come in despite the fact that she was the most skilled spy in the area. Only one person could've snuck up on her: the one she had just been thinking about. Reluctantly turning, she came face-to-face with Belal. _

_"Who's 'so damned attractive'?" he smirked, putting a wry twist on the phrase. _

_She could feel another shiver building up. His voice had always done this to her. It was so much like velvet that it was nearly tangible. _

_"No one of your concern." She responded quickly, then the whole thing sank in. She whirled around to face him, eyes blazing. "_

_What the hell are you doing in my house?" she glared, hands going back to her daggers. _

_"Something I should have done a long time ago…" he whispered as his hand slid behind her neck. _

_With one fluid motion, he pulled her to him and kissed her, slowly, languorously, as if savoring her taste. Her eyes went vague in shock for a moment, but she eventually gave up her struggle and let her lips melt into his. When they finally came up for air, she was numb with passion. One thing was for sure: she hadn't over-estimated him in her dreams. _

_"Belal…" she moaned softly, longing for more. _

_He chuckled softly and obliged, but this time, he stood up, pulling Len with him. The two appraised each other for a moment, then Len took matters into her own hands, teasingly nipping him on the lips. With newly-awoken sensuality, she traced a path of quick kisses to his ear, which she wet with her tongue, then blew softly on. This time, his moan wasn't soft and longing, but strained. Without letting her do anything else, he tackled her roughly to the floor and… _

Nel snapped out of her daydream and looked at what she had written. She blushed crimson and swore.

"More smut!" She moaned, tossing it into what she called her garbage drawer, "Why does it always end up like that?"

Well, she supposed it was probably what had made her a successful author. There were a lot of people out there who liked Eln Lephrez's occasional lapses into the naughty. Still, it'd be quite embarrassing if someone found out it was her writing the popular spy series. She shook the thought from her head. No one would ever be clever enough to figure out her connection to the stories. (Now is as good a time as any to mention that Elicoor doesn't have word jumbles. Otherwise, Nel wouldn't think herself nearly as clever.) Besides, she'd soon be able to buy silence from anyone with the enormous royalties checks she kept getting from both the inventor's guild and her publisher. Yes, the world would soon be hers! That is, if she ever got past the smut and into the story. Nel groaned and shackled herself back to the uncomfortable chair to sift some storyline out of the fluff. Several hours later, her dirty drawer's contents had grown exponentially, while her draft had stayed the same size.

"Damn it!" She groaned, banging her head futilely against the desk.

It was going to be a longer night than she knew.

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Meanwhile, in an inn across town, Albel the Wicked settled down to sleep with the new book by his favorite author, the only spy novelist who didn't suck. He was just getting to the good part-- where the red-headed spy finally fell for the slightly effeminate yet bad-ass rival spy—when he got the feeling that someone was watching him. He scanned the room and decided that it was all in his head and returned to his book.

_Len straddled Belal's stomach and caressed his rippling chest muscles. She'd been longing to have him for her own for so long and now finally she did. He tensed underneath her as her roaming hands—_

Albel was interrupted from his reading by the sound of his window opening. He scowled and put down his book huffily.

"Now one gets away with interrupting me during the best part of the book! I kill you!"

Before he could even get out of bed, the pink-clad ninja of doom was on him. She grabbed a sword from her pack and stabbed the pillow a few inches from Albel's head.

"Albie…" she cooed, raising a random mallet over her head simultaneously, "Do you hate me?"

Just before the mallet crashed into his head, Albel was at a complete loss for words.

With that, Peppita grinned and took her beloved rope from her pack and finally started to put it to use. Yes, her plan was finally beginning to fall into place. She couldn't help but cackle maniacally in glee to celebrate her power-trip.

"Well, you will soon."

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A/N- mendokuse na, Sorceress Myst, Blue Persuasion, BlueTrillium, May, Anarchy Sky, Aki Leafe, RandoMaia, RWT, I love you all. Seriously. It's people like you that make this section so very, very hella-awesome. Rock on with your coolness. I'll probably do individual review responses next chapter, but I'm so very tired right now (my three and a half hour Italian class liquefies my brain). Anyhow, I hope you all liked the new chapter. Next time, the Elicoorian Gods will come back, Peppita unveils her plan to Albel and anyone else who will listen to her, and Nel gets a nighttime visit. Now, click on the Periwinkle box or an army of kick-boxing penguins with cardboard knives will attack you in the nicest way possible. And until next time, remember to never trust your computer when it smells like toast. Actually, just don't trust toast in general. It's very under-handed.


	3. Then to combat it came the jam

**Of Alnel, Toasters, and Insane Fluff**

A/N- Yes, CAT is back from the pits of laziness and schoolwork. This update is for Blue Persuasion who I promised to update three stories for, though I'm already late (The others are coming soon, I promise!). It's also a birthday present for several people from several weeks ago (who have probably forgotten), when this was supposed to have come out. Anyhow, all you readers should go check out my forum, SO Forum Fun because… well, as the name connotes, it's fun. Well, happy reading!

Chapter Three: Then there was jam...

Albel groaned groggily as he came to.

"Mrrgh…" he muttered, trying to roll over in bed.

The only problem was that wherever he was laying didn't feel like his bed. In fact, it felt more like stone. Plus, he was currently attached to a pair of handcuffs that were chafing his wrists, which despite several rather kinky rumors about the Wicked one, was not something he usually did at home. Or ever.

As the series of clues fell into place, his eyes jolted open and he tried to struggle out of his bondage. He immediately regretted the sudden movement as a splitting pain made his head feel like it was about to explode.

'Handcuffs? Horrible headache? I thought I learned my lesson last time I drank a case of Damda's strongest cider…'

He pondered the implications and began to panic even more.

"Damn! The fangirls probably found me in this state. Who knows what they've done to me while I was vulnerable…'

He couldn't help but whimper at the prospect. Of course, it could be worse. Like a true warrior, he decided to take advantage of the time alone his captors had given him, whoever they were. There had to be a way out of this situation. He craned his stiff neck around to take in his surroundings and wished he hadn't. The place looked more like the Inquisitor's dungeon than he was comfortable with. Especially with the handcuffs that were still holding him prisoner. All he could do was pray that the Inquisitor hadn't come back to life. Or that the fangirls hadn't found the masochist's lair.

"Albel…" a soft and strangely familiar voice purred from the next room, "You can't stay asleep forever, can you?"

He immediately screwed his eyes shut. If he pretended to be unconscious, his captors couldn't do anything to him. At least, they couldn't in good conscience. Then again, he didn't trust the fangirls (assuming it was them) to uphold those rules of etiquette. Yet… the voice didn't sound like a fangirl squeal. In fact, it sounded more like a certain red-headed someone who he wouldn't mind being tied up by. He growled and shook his head, caught off guard by his rogue thought.

'Now my mind's working against me. The Aquarian wench would never do something like this.' He mentally snarled.

Or if she would, it was only in his Eln Lephrez-induced dreams. Luckily, the sound of approaching footsteps made him snap out of his self-induced scolding/daydreaming.

"Are you really going to ignore me?" the voice purred again from somewhere in the vicinity of his ear.

This time, he was almost certain it was her voice. It was still hard to believe, but perhaps Zelpher had a wild streak he hadn't accounted for. He felt soft hair brush against his face and couldn't control himself any longer. He opened his eyes, only to find Peppita tickling his face with the end of one pigtail.

The previous night came back to him in a flash of disappointment and anger. Mostly anger.

"What's the meaning of this, worm?" he roared, trying to hide his discomfort at mistaking Peppita for Nel. How was that even possible?

"I knew now would be a good time to try out the Nel impression I've been practicing!" she giggled, reverting to her normal ear-tormenting pitch. "It sure did wake you up quickly!"

He turned red and gnashed his teeth. If only he had his katana…

"So you're probably wondering why I've brought you to my lair." Peppita cackled, bouncing around him crazily.

"No. I'm merely wondering why the hell you kidnapped me in the first place, maggot. I hope you have a good answer because once I get free, you will be painfully tortured, possibly murdered."

Peppita laughed mirthlessly and her face darkened considerably. She towered over him, the room's soft lantern throwing shadows across her form, making her look like a deranged angel. It was almost scary, though the Wicked One would never have admitted it.

"I seriously doubt you'll do that." Peppita grinned wickedly.

"Oh?" Albel said, holding back a gulp, "Why's that, worm?"

"Well," his captor drawled, "For one thing, I have this."

She brandished the romance novel he'd been reading before her "visit".

"S-So? It's just a book. Besides, I'll just murder you and destroy the evidence once I get free."

Peppita gave Albel a strange look.

"I thought you'd underestimate little old me like that. Well, I'm smarter than that, silly."

Albel finally surrendered and gulped.

"I took the liberty of taking some pictures of you reading it. The little hearts in your eyes were the cutest part. Besides that, though, I also had Mirage scan all the pages where you crossed out Belal for Albel and Len for Nel. Plus, there are the doodles of all the hearts with a certain someone's name in them… If you try to escape or misbehave, I'll have Mirage send them to all of Welsh's communicators. You'll be ruined!"

Thematic lightning illuminated her from behind, promoting her from deranged angel to bad-ass freakin' overlord. Meanwhile, Albel was stuck in a wordless rage between growling and blushing. Finally, he managed eight words he'd regret for a long while.

"Fine. What do you want from me, maggot?"

"I'm glad you asked. I'm gonna make you an offer you can't refuse. Let me reintroduce you to my associate."

She cracked a wide grin and the Toaster shuffled out from behind her almost bashfully. Someone (and Albel was 90 sure he knew who) had even fastened a tiny bridal veil to what was presumably its head. Albel's eyes widened in fear and he muttered something about burnt toast.

"This machine, Toaster, happens to be maniacally obsessed with you. And since you're single, I figured that I might as well hook you up with someone/thing. I mean, we all know you're never going to ask Nel out. So all you have to do to be free and live happily ever after is agree to marry Toaster."

The world turned slightly fuzzy. Surely even she wouldn't be that crazy…

"What did you just say?" Albel glared.

"You heard me." Peppita smirked, glaring back.

Toaster joined in the stand-off by heating its coils and whipping its tail about.

Albel paled. Peppita had more problems than he had ever suspected. And that thing had a crush on him? The whole thing was sick and wrong. Not even the Wicked One with his disregard for religion wanted to take place in this crime against the universe in general. But if it meant that he'd be out of this situation (and that no one would figure out about the novel), he decided he might as well agree. The key was to think the maggot that he was actually serious.

"Mmmph." Albel muttered sullenly.

"Huh? What was that?" Peppita gloated.

"I said that I will."

"Will what?"

"I'll marry your freaking toaster!" Albel shouted, suddenly feeling worried.

This didn't constitute as an oath… right? No matter. The brat didn't have any way to make it official. No priest in their right mind would--

Peppita grinned happily.

"I'm glad you've agreed! Now let me introduce you to my other associate."

Peppita skipped into the other room and returned pulling a very large, very frightened man in white robes. Albel gulped. It couldn't be… she wasn't that devious, surely.

"This is Priest Cream Puff. He'll be presiding over your wedding ceremony, riiight?"

She elbowed him sharply and he nodded enthusiastically He even managed a "mmmph!" from behind his gag, though Albel wasn't entirely sure if it was in agreement or pleading.

"Well, that is, as soon as I can figure out how to make a voice implant to let Toaster say "I do."…"

Albel stared after her in shock. If there was one thing to say for the worm, it was that she was prepared.

"Well then," she trilled, dragging the priest after her and ignoring how he was clawing at the cement floor, "I'll leave you with your fiancé. You two should get to know one another."

Peppita picked up the toaster, kicked it so that it landed beside Albel and fled the room. It immediately made a purring hiss and cuddled up to him.

"Hey! No one said anything about—Peppita! Get back here! It's burning my leg!"

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Dima stomped down the hall of the ethereal palace of the gods, causing several crashes of thunder to the storm brewing below. Angry from the nudey magazine incident, she didn't even notice when a dark figure materialized from behind a pillar. The god in question followed behind her like a cat stalking its prey until he finally caught up with her.

"So, do you usually smite temples? It seems rather contradictory, doesn't it? You wouldn't want to confuse the poor little maggot-minions by sending them mixed signals."

Dima favored him with an annoyed glare and then stopped and sized him up.

"Folstar… you're the god of death…" she murmured thoughtfully.

He bristled slightly, but nodded.

"Yes, well, I prefer maggot-mincer or scum slaughterer, but I suppose that works."

Elena fidgeted and scuffed one sandal across the white marble floor. Folstar was always rather intimidating and not only because of his role as executioner. He had a fierce, keen kind of presence that made most gods uncomfortable around him. Plus, his darkly handsome looks were enough to make most of the goddesses drool all over themselves when he walked by. Out of them all, though, Dima probably got along with him best because she had the same sort of fierce aura in a subtler way. Probably because he was an independent deity not born of Apris, he had no loyalties his fellow deities, so getting him to assist her in eliminating the Abomination would be hard. It was worth a try, though…

"I have an assassination job for you."

Folstar perked up slightly.

"Whatcha got? Blasphemous rebel? Annoying flowergirl? RPG love interest? Oooh, I love those… though they always manage to come back to life. Damned reset button."

"Uhhh, nothing that exciting. But it could disturb the balance of the universe."

"Oh. Leave that to the heroes. They always manage. Or die."

"It's not that kind of menace, though." Dima frowned.

"Then why don't you take care of it with one of your spiffy thunderbolts?"

He started to walk away and Dima ran after him, pulling out a picture of the perp in question.

"My aim isn't good enough. I'd destroy half the city. Look at this thing! It's not on any of the invention charts. It's just… evil."

Folstar stopped in his tracks.

"You've got to be kidding me. That thing's barely sentient."

"But--" Dima groaned.

"I think it'll be interesting to watch. In fact, I think I'll extend my protection to it. Now, come back to me when you have a real victim."

With that, he turned and walked away mockingly in a flash of toast.

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Meanwhile, back on Elicoor II, Welch Vineyard was faced with a dilemma. She'd been inundated with complaints from inventors who couldn't get into the Aquios workshop. Also, several of the people who lived nearby had complained about loud screams at night. There was no way she'd go near it, but there was a group of people crazy enough to think about it. Picking up her communicator, she dialed a familiar number.

"Mirage here."

The screen flashed on to a video of a blonde woman, not a blue-haired bish.

"Huh? Where's Fayt?" Welch said, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice.

"See, our party members have been disappearing one by one, so he and Cliff are convinced that they're in a bad horror movie. Right now they've decided to split up in the castle to investigate. They'll be away for a while. Incidentally, Maria and I have a patent to file for an accessory called a hockey mask."

"Send it over." Welch sighed, "But you said that your friends were going missing? Is everything all right over there?"

Mirage smirked slightly.

"Cliff and Fayt have a penchant for letting their imaginations run away with them. Albel merely mysteriously disappeared like he does in every city, then Nel ran off muttering something about an urgent mission, and Peppita is… uhh, inventing. That's probably what has them scared."

"But Peppita's one of the best crafters we have. What's so scary—"

"Did you see the patent for the new invention she made?"

"One sec." Welch mumbled.

She pressed a few buttons on her communicator, pulling up Peppita's invention history report.

"The bread heating thingy? Sure. Granted, it's not her best work, but why would that be scary?"

"Well, she's locked herself in the workshop with it for a couple of days, and I'm pretty sure it's developed a personality. Or at least consciousness."

Welch paled and shuddered. Nothing about this situation was shaping up to be good. How'd the mysterious screams fit in? Well, at least it wasn't her problem any more.

"And that was the Aquios worshop?" Welch gulped.

"Well, yes." Mirage frowned, noticing the girl's sudden change.

"Sorry, you're gonna have to get her out of there if it means you have to drag her. Workshops are the property of the Inventor's guild and all of its clientele. Please have her vacate or at least unlock the premises by 24 hours from now. And, uhh, good luck."

The screen went dead and Mirage sighed. She'd have to break up the fun. That is, after she got a few blackmail pictures of Cliff and Fayt being scared by a blue-haired girl in a hockey mask…

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Annoyed with not being listened to by her gaudy god of a father or by Folstar, Dima set her mind to watching the Toaster compulsively. Now, many people wonder how their deity of choice can watch keep tabs on all their followers. There have been many theories: omnipotence, spies, psychic friends, x-ray glasses, beer goggles. Really, though, the methods are different for each deity. Dima dug a vaguely threatening looking rectangle with rows and rows of buttons from the folds of her robes.

"Behold!" She bellowed to no one in particular, "Verily you can now see the wonder of my greatest creation. I call upon the power of…"

She typed in a complex sequence of letters and snapped her fingers. Immediately a small square box that emitted a faint glow materialized in front of her.

"TiVo!"

A tiny picture of the toaster appeared on the screen and Dima sighed happily. Another two snaps brought a recliner and a tub of ultra chocolate ripple. Content, she settled in for some Mortal Masterpiece theater.

She was sorely disappointed. After the first few hours of watching It carve Albel's name in anything it could find, even she got bored. And it takes a lot to bore an immortal. She switched the channel to the next room, only to find Albel chained to a stone table.

"What the hell?" she muttered.

She settled back in. It was a mortal thing, no doubt. At least it made for better TV than the Toaster.

Engrossed in checking all the other rooms, Dima didn't even notice anyone approaching until the bane of her existence skipped into the room. The uninvited guest was Elena, the most annoying being she could ever wish to spend an eternity with. No one really knew who gave birth to her, nor did it matter, as the theory was that all three triplets had the exact same personality. All that mattered was that she was almost the exact clone of the triplets with the exception that she wasn't tied down in marriage. Needless to say, most… "encounters"… mortal men had with deities were with her. As far as Dima was concerned, Elena's fluffy white wings and coordinated white outfits weren't fooling anyone.

"Hiya, Dima! Whatcha watchin' so closely? If you think that hard, you'll get wrinkles on your forehead. You should really try curling your hair once in a while. It'd make you look at least three centuries younger." The younger goddess rambled.

To her, it wasn't worth the breath to speak to some one unless she could badger, insult, or flirt with the person in question.

"Don't you have some mortal to molest?" Dima growled, barely looking up from her screen.

Elena sighed and rolled her eyes.

"At least I'm not as _tense_ as some of us. You know, even if you do have a better metabolism than mortals, you'll get fat if you eat all that."

Dima sighed and rolled her eyes back. There was no using in actually talking to Elena once she got started. Actually, there was no use in talking to Elena most of the time. Someone had clearly chosen beauty over brain cells when they created her.

"And you know, red is totally not your colo—"

Something had done the unthinkable and derailed Elena mid-rant. She perched herself on the arm of Dima's chair and stared intently at the screen.

"…Who is that smexy piece of mortal meat?" Elena murmured, a pool of drool forming on her dress.

Dima's random remote clicking had landed back on a shocked and still-chained Albel who had by this time had already heard Peppita's announcement. Thanks to TiVo's power of automatic summary, Dima knew exactly what happened.

"You can't have him." Dima said, her jaw sagging slightly in surprise.

"Why not? Don't you want to share? You might have had first dibs on him, but I'd put him to better use—"

Ignoring her sister completely, Dima began to muse. She'd known that monstrosity was going to be trouble, but no one could have predicted this.

"Hello? Don't go all smart and thinky on me! Why can't I have him?" Elena squealed angrily. The noise made several monsters on the Palmira Plains go suddenly and mysteriously deaf and confirmed once and for all where Farleen had gotten her voice.

"He's already engaged—"

"Whaaaat?" Elena interrupted, pouting, "To who? A little mortal tramp, no doubt. Probably doesn't even appreciate—"

"No, Elena." Dima said, flipping the channel back to the Toaster, "To that."

For the first time in recorded history, the goddess Elena was struck speechless.

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Now, as an added bonus for those of you who aren't compulsive SO dictionary readers, here's…

CAT's handy guide to SO3 mythology (so far)

Apris- The central god of the Church of Apris, the most widely followed religion on the continent of Gaitt. The star Elicoor is said to be the physical manifestation of Apris. The teachings say now that Apris has set his own body on fire and became Elicoor, he can no longer return to the ground, but by sending the Emissary of Apris, he is still able to lead the people.

**CAT's version: Main lecherous god who has a thing for triplets. Also, he did set his body on fire once, though it wasn't to form the sun. It was because of a bet, a lack of brain cells, and lots of alcohol.**

Dima- A goddess of fire and one of the primary goddesses of the Church of Apris. Dima has two forms, one of fury and one of wisdom. Legend has it that when she takes the form of fury, she uses a magic staff endowed with the power of ancient dragons, and when she takes the form of wisdom, she wields a bow that shoots dazzling beams of runological light.

**CAT's version: What are you talking about? She doesn't bear a strange resemblance to certain SO3 party member… not at all.**

Elena -The goddess of light, and one of the primary goddesses of the Church of Apris. Elena has wings of pure white growing out of her back, and spins songs with her wooden sword to inspire warriors.

**CAT's version: She does more than sing to 'inspire' warriors. –ahem- Trollop –ahem-**

Erinia- One of the primary goddesses of the Church of Apris, and the second eldest sister of three moon goddesses married to Apris.

**CAT's version: Bimbo.**

Folstar- A primary god of the Church of Apris that is the master of the underworld. Frigidly handsome, Folstar is said to cleave the silver thread that binds the soul to the body with a long sword he holds in his hand.

**CAT's version: He doesn't remind you of a SO3 character either. Nope. –tries to look innocent-**

Irisa- This major goddess of the Church of Apris is the eldest of three sisters represented by the moons of Elicoor II. Wife of Apris.

**CAT's version: Bimbo**.

Palmira- A primary goddess of the Church of Apris and the youngest of the three moon goddess sisters married to Apris.

**CAT's version: Bimbo.**

More to come later! Next chapter: Mirage meddles, Nel gets a late-night visitor, and a wedding is planned. Now, go and review because CAT gave a long update, despite being late. Now, click the Periwinkle Box or I shall infect ye all with Ameena's mystery disease! Bwahaahha!


	4. Perhaps some yellowy butter analog, too

Of Alnel, Toasters, and Insane Fluff

Chapter 4- And perhaps some yellowy butter-like substance.

A/N- Okaaay… before I am stoned, drawn and quartered, and hung simultaneously, can I give my last words? I'm sorry I haven't updated in forever! Anyhow, I went on a thirty-mile bike trip yesterday, so pretty much every muscle in my body doesn't feel like moving, so it's an ideal time to space out in front of my computer and catch up on my fanfiction. If all goes well, I may even be able to update a few others today, too. Ah, sweet, sweet laziness…

"That's just _WROooOooONG_!" Elena squealed, using one of her most fearsome powers, the ability to draw out a one-syllable word into eight while still pronouncing the capital letters and using a pitch that could break glass.

Dima and the other deities groaned (and possibly even writhed) simultaneously and pulled out their emergency earplugs. Unfortunately, their followers didn't have any such luxuries…

On the face of Elicoor, the town of Arias, whose residents had just completed the final touches to the last house they'd had to rebuild, was rocked by an earthquake that completely demolished the town. Again.

"Why don't we ever move? You'd think we'd have learned by now…" Tynave moaned from under the small mountain of bricks that used to be Headquarters.

"Uhhhh, I really don't know. WEEEiiIiiRRRD, huh?"

For reasons that Tynave would never completely understand, at the sound of Farleen's voice, she chucked a brick at her friend's head and sent her into the relative silence of unconsciousness.

"Huh. That was strangely satisfying…" Tynave mused, surreptitiously throwing the incriminating brick into the wreckage of the town.

"…'s my aardvark…" Farleen mumbled.

Sensing that the windows had stopped vibrating and that the blonde seemed to have run out of breath, Dima summoned her bravery and did what no one else dared: took out her earplugs. No one else followed suit. After all, you never knew when Elena was really finished throwing a tantrum and when she was just pausing for breath. Sure, the gods might not have been too wise on some aspects (like, for instance, allowing Apris to call himself the head god in the first place), but they'd all figured that spending the rest of eternity deaf was definitely not on their to-do list.

"Oh my me, Diiima! That was _not_ even funny! How could you let something like that happen to one of your followers? He's too hot to be betrothed to a Thing! It could, like, burn his bishy little face! If it does, I won't forgive you. Why is there no smiting going on--?" Elena squealed hysterically, managing to squeeze seven sentences into seven seconds.

Dima gave her fellow goddess a Look and Elena froze mid-rant. Anyone who's ever had (or been) an older sister knows just how scary a normal Look can be, but give it a few millennia to mature and… let's just say a lightning bolt aimed at the face might be a bit more pleasant.

"He's not one of my followers. I haven't had anything to do with him since he was born. In fact…" she mused, cool dismissal boiling into something that would have been a lot like indignation in a more petty god, "I don't think he's ever prayed to any of us."

A small pop indicated everyone else taking out their eardrum-preservers and coming to attention.

No matter what kind of family a person has, it's a law of the universe that where there's a little row starting, a crowd of relatives will flock to the scene to try to straighten the fight out and ultimately make it ten times louder, more confusing, and, above all, worse. Accordingly, within minutes the whole pantheon of gods had converged on the spot, all clamoring at the same time.

"An atheist, huh?" Leiria, the eternally tweenaged, eternally annoying goddess of time piped up, a feral gleam in her eyes. "We don' take kindly to that type 'round these parts. Heeeeyy… let's issue a decree that requires _all _of his type marry appliances as penance! I'm sure a couple of my puppets could come up with some nasty designs…"

Leiria was lost in her decidedly devious thoughts for a few moments until her older (for lack of better word) sister smacked the back of her head with the flat of her sword.

"Don't be foolish. This doesn't concern us." Said Shar, the goddess of… well, to be fair, no one was quite sure what specifically Shar was goddess of, but no one had really pressed the issue after taking a few glances at her giant shape-shifting sword. Finally, Apris decided that since she had blue hair, she could be goddess of water. She'd accepted the title, but everyone suspected she was patron of a few other things, like people you really don't want to meet in a dark alley.

"Hey, that hurt! Don't make me start another holy war! You might've won last time, but my followers have gotten smarter. We won't fall for the give-us-a-giant-sugar-coated-marshmallow-bunny-Peep-as-a-gift-and-hide-soldiers-inside-so-they-can-attack-us-with-sticky-weapons-in-the-night ploy again!"

"Hmph. I've outgrown silly games like that." Shar sniffed

Leiria's face fell, though the feral look still didn't disappear.

"Yeah, I noticed. All you do now is moon over Solon." She spat, then continued in a higher, squeakier voice, "Dear Diary, Solon is so cute, especially his blue hair! …No, I don't have a crush on my mirror image! Although… I wonder if his sword is bigger than mine… It does take him two hands to hold it and you know what they say about guys who do that. Plus, he had that thing with Elena that one time. I'm not worried about that, though 'cause we all know I'm cuter than her. I can see it now: Mrs. Shar Solon! "

"Why you little—" Shar roared, lunging toward her sister with murderous intent. "You've been sneaking around in my room again, haven't you?"

Leiria, danced out of her sister's sword-range because being decapitated is quite annoying, even if you are immortal.

"Did I hear something about smiting? I haven't had a good one in ages." Apris grinned, laughing throatily and completely ignoring the chaos around him.

His eldest wife, Erinia, teleported into the fray next to him and gave him a Look.

"You're supposed to be getting ready for that drug-induced vision the High Priestess is going to have of you. You'll wear the Offical Loincloth, got it? None of that thong thing you tried last time; no one wants to see that."

"Awww, but—"

"No buts." Erinia growled.

"Yes'm."

"And didn't I tell you to take out the trash an hour ago?"

"Yes'm…I'm sorry…"

"WHO thinks they're cuter than me?" a distraught Elena squeaked.

"Who thinks I'm cute?" Solon mused, dumb in matters of the heart as ever.

Dima let out a scream of frustration and stuffed her earplugs back in. Sometimes, she wished she'd been born into a normal family. Preferably one where the more annoying relatives were mortal.

"Ahem." Coughed a familiar figure dressed all in black.

The rest of the gods quieted their arguing down to a low buzz.

"That mortal happens to be one of my followers, though admittedly, I think the number of prayers he's said in the last few hours is more than the number he's said in his life." Folstar paused for a dark chuckle.

"Now, it seems to me we have an interesting situation here that it'd be a shame to waste. Anyone care to play a game of peon poker?"

Mirage sighed and filed blackmail picture 7,892. It had been a pretty decent idea (Cliff and Fayt's girlish screams were still echoing through the castle) until Welch had to go and ruin her prank buzz. After that, she'd had to spend the better part of an hour convincing the two that Elicoor didn't have any real chainsaws, just really sharp axes and that Maria _probably_ wasn't a mass-murderer. Of course, after all that had been sorted out, the group still had another, bigger problem looming above them.

"So there are screams coming from the old abandoned workshop, huh? Isn't that where Peppita is?"

"Yes, Fayt." Mirage winced, suspecting where this was going.

Maria gave the others a less-than-innocent grin.

"Jinkies! And Welch wants us to get to the bottom of things so that the citizens of Aquios can go on inventing in peace?"

"…That's the idea."

"Zoinks! Are there going to be ghosts?" Cliff quavered.

Mirage massaged her temples and took a deep breath.

"Oh no. We are _not_ playing Scooby Doo—"

"I call dibs on Fred!" Fayt said before anyone else could.

"Then I'm Daphne!" Maria grinned, clapping her hands.

"Shaggy!" Cliff interjected.

Everyone looked at Roger expectantly.

"Heeey! Just because I'm a Menodix doesn't mean I'm going to agree to be Scooby! That's racist!"

Maria favored him with a hard glare.

"Or… ya know, I could go along with it so scary lady doesn't punch me…"

Mirage cursed Cliff for introducing the Elicoorians to Scooby Doo. Stupid twentieth century cartoons… but at least she and Cliff had an arrangement. She'd never tell anyone about his need to watch the Galactic Adventures of My Little Pony every Saturday morning and he wouldn't tell anyone about her one weakness.

"Damn it. Why do I always end up being Thelma?"

In the dimly lit room of Crimson Blade-turned-harlequin novelist Nel Zelpher, there was dead silence save the faint scratching of a quill. It wasn't however, the scribblings of a new novel in progress. Rather, the authoress had appeared to have snapped, judging by the writing on the wall. And in this case, it wasn't just a figure of speech. The wall was adorned from the floor to the ceiling with the same disturbing phrase she kept muttering under her breath.

"All work and no play makes Nel a dull girl." She whispered hauntingly, staring into space and rocking back and forth on her haunches.

As the pale light of dawn filtered through the window, a sound of hesitant knocking made Nel snap to attention.

"All work and no play makes Eln a dull girl?" she said, which roughly translated to 'who is it?'.

"Nel? I know you're in there! Open up!" Clair bellowed, hammering on the door harder.

"… makes Len a dull girl? Fatal Error 705: burnt toast syndrome."

Finally, at the end of her patience, Clair resorted to the last resort of all publishers (and police) across the galaxy: she kicked down the door.

"Nel, the insanity excuse won't work on me. You told me to use any means necessary to make sure you got the draft in by your deadline. Now, where is it?"

Nel straightened up and pouted.

"You know, I was sure that that method would work. Oh well… it was worth a try. But what am I going to say to the landlady about the walls… and the door? There goes Mr. Security Deposit…"

Clair had known Nel for long enough to know when she was stalling. Her green eyes tended to dart around more than usual, as if looking for any excuse to latch onto.

"Enough of that." Clair muttered, dragging Nel by the wrist to her desk "Hand over the book, please."

"I'm afraid that's impossible." Nel sighed wistfully, "I didn't finish. Not that I didn't try…"

Clair winced and took her friend by the shoulders. As panic took over, a hunted, feral look crept onto her face.

"Please tell me you're joking. Welch gets really scary if you don't make your deadline. Horns and cloven hooves scary. Not to mention all the fans who'll complain about a delay—"

"I can't help it. I have the beginning and ending, but the middle just didn't come to me." Nel snapped, irritably sleep-deprived as she was.

"Come on, there's got to be something that could pass as decent in your files." Clair grimaced… until she caught sight of a certain over-stuffed drawer.

"Err… you told me that you keep all the smut in that drawer, right?"

Nel's eyes narrowed suspiciously, but before she could move, Clair had already grabbed the manuscripts on the desk and the drawer and had run out the door at top-ninja speed. Immediately a blush crept to her face. Sure, her fanbase was more interested in the smut than the story half the time, but some of the stuff in the Drawer was unfinished or… very naughty. Then the second sucker-punch hit her. She'd never changed the names in most of the Drawer's contents to the ones of the fictional characters.

"Damn it." Nel cursed (along with a few other choice expletives), and did the natural thing for anyone in her situation: she jumped into bed, pulled the covers up over her head and prayed fervently to her patron deity.

Later she'd wish she'd never done the last part…

A/N- Well, I updated! Fwa! Take that, sore muscles… -tries to get out of computer chair- Yowch… Nevertheless, despite my current lack of physical strength, I still command you to click on the periwinkle box and leave me a shiny review if you liked this chapter. I will not directly threaten you due to my need to collapse in a comfy bed, but rest assured that if you don't review, a hoard of assorted minions (including the TM'd firabbits, moleamanders (my new genetic cross between moles and salamanders, which is the only breed of creature that can survive the general vicinity of the depths of the suburbs of the core of the earth), and possibly that cool midget that played Webster) will show up at your door and attack you in your sleep in the name of me, their creator.

Much love,

CAT

PS-- Oh, and try to guess which characters the Gods are mirror-images of. New CAT-dictionary entries will come later, but until then anyone who guesses them all correctly gets a shiny undisclosed prize. It's pretty easy…


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